


Satellite

by Mangerine



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Applins are not for Valentines they are for life, Confessions, Established RaiLeon, M/M, Proposals, Victor has Mars in Leo and he's gonna give it all for love, Yeah Leon probably has a Fire Mars also someone who knows astrology leave a comment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangerine/pseuds/Mangerine
Summary: It takes a specific blend of incredibly competitive and irredeemably stubborn to be a Champion, which is just what Victor and Leon are - in pokébattles and in love. Everything's on the line for their relationship and Honour; it had to come to a head eventually.Rivals and their night before the championship; the promises that brought them here, the future waiting for them, and stupid decisions in between.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan, Hop/Masaru | Victor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 162





	1. Curiousity

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from LOONA yall better stan.

They share their first kiss after Victor beats him.

If anything, Hop is proud that he didn't cry about the loss - he prides himself on being a good loser, it comes with the territory of living in your brother's shadow. Losing and having to comfort a moping winner though, that's new.

He refilling his water bottle to rehydrate for the good long cry he's about to treat himself to when Victor texts him.

"9' o clock"

Hop turns to his direct left. Down the hall, past the exit, in the heat of the setting sun is his rival. His expression is a blur from a distance, and doesn't get any clearer as Hop approaches. His shoulders are tense, his brows drawn and his mouth curled in an uneasy frown - the face he makes when he's having a nightmare.

"Going to treat me to dinner, I hope?" Hop says, "that's just rival etiquette, you know."

Victor shifts to turn towards Hop, seems to decide against it, struggles to remove his trainer glove and shove it into his pack's side pouch, before reaching for Hop's left hand with his own bare right. It's a firm and warm grasp, but Victor hasn't raised his head to look at Hop yet.

"Let's go set up camp," Victor says, voice hoarse, "I'll make you curry."

Hop smiles, if not at the sweet offer, then at the hopelessly awkward invitation. They're both an hour away from a fatigue coma, if that.

"Let's splurge on takeout tonight, ok?" Hop suggests gently, tugging on his rival's hand and guiding him to a convenience store. He's a better loser than he thought, or maybe Victor's a terrible winner. Victor, for his part, follows quietly, eyes tracking their long shadows until the sun sets, never once raising his head.

The kiss happens after their quiet dinner, their quiet washing up, and their quiet agreement that pitching one tent was good enough for both of them, especially when they were seconds from collapsing.

Hop had barely turned the flashlight on his rotom phone off when he feels Victor hold his hand again. Wordlessly, he spreads his fingers to slip between Victor's, lacing their hands together.

"Good night-"

"I love you."

Hop is so tired. He hadn't even gotten his hard-eared loser's cry yet. It's somewhat of a ritual by now, sadly.

"Be my rival forever," Victor says.

Hop squeezes his hand gently, if only to signal that he's still awake.

"D'you...love me as a rival or..." Hop trails off, trying to unravel the situation, "is it, a, let's-stay-rivals-because-you-love-me kind of deal?"

There, a response, sincere enough, even grammatically correct. That's more than enough intelligence Hop can muster.

Victor squeezes his hand back, almost painfully.

"You're my best...fr-" Victor makes an odd swallowing noise, and falls silent.

Hop shakes the grip into a more comfortable grasp.

"I'm not angry that you won, Vic," Hop slurs out, face half submerged in his pillow, "I'll be your rival forever,"

Hop pauses.

"Love you too, Vic."

There’s a loud rustling as Victor sits up, or Hop guesses he does, from the movement. Victor pulls his hand away from the hold only to cradle Hop's limp hand in his own two.

"Not love you like a rival," Victor nearly hisses, "I love you like a _**rival**_ ," he stresses, "like Raihan and your brother, like-"

Victor sputters while Hop bounces his hand gently, like soothing a sleeping baby .

"Y'ss I g'dit," Hop rolls over so his mouth isn't full of pillow, "codeword "rival","

Victor waits for him to continue, but Hop just yawns.

"You're my best friend Hop," Victor says,"I know what the championship means to you, I just,"

His hands are shaking, but he won't let go of Hop.

In what might be a historical show of sportsmanship, Hop swings his right arm to Victor, pulling him down and into a hug. Hop opens his eyes for a moment, before closing them again when he realised it was too dark to see anyway.

"Why?"

Victor opts to hold onto Hop's pyjama top instead of hugging him.

"...Why do I love you?"

It was _"Why did you join the championship?_ " truthfully, but Hop hums in affirmation anyway.

"You... watch your brother's livestreams every Saturday," Victor whispers.

"What?" Was he already asleep? Was that supposed to make any sense?

"...only after you revise your notes on wild pokemon. Then after that you go feed the wooloos, and help your mum with dinner," Victor pauses for a beat, "then you open the windows while you check the locks on the wooloo pens, and you close them before you sleep because you can't sleep with sounds outside."

Victor releases his grip on the cloth and stretches his arm across Hop's side.

"Then the next day you battle with me, we go camping, you try my new recipes....all week until..."

Victor leans his forehead against Hop.

"There's no why....I just got greedy. I want your Saturday too. I wanna be the first one to say good morning to you, good night too, and...and if you become champion I..."

Leon didn't even come home for Christmas last year. It was only last year, and he sent Raihan to bring gifts in his place, but still.

"You couldn't have just given me an Applin?"

The Galarian myth, overpopularised in romance dramas until officials cordoned off the wild areas during Valentines. These days plushies were more common - more ethical too, considering how often Applins in pokeballs had to be rescued from bins after failed confessions.

That wasn't the only Galarian tradition though.

"I'm gonna beat your brother tomorrow and ask for Honour."

Hop's eyes shoot open at that, and all exhaustion evaporates from him.

"You're crazy. Just ask my mother and herd wooloo for a week like Raihan did."

Victor says nothing, just sits up reaches over to turn on the small keychain light on his pack. The dim light through the tent is enough for Hop to see the expression on his face.

"You're crazy," Hop murmurs again, sitting up too, staring at Victor. Then louder, angrier, "you're **crazy**. **Don't**."

Victor's suddenly starved for eye contact, after a whole day of shirking away.

"Do you love me?" Victor asks, his voice serious as an unsheathed sword. He reaches for Hop's hand, holds it and his gaze both. "I'll get you an Applin next Valentines to seal the deal. A shiny one. I'll start hunting after tomorrow if I have to."

Hop would laugh if he weren't about to screech and tear his hair out and start smacking Victor like a furious Grookey. He's so tired. This is how Sobble feels all the time probably, always on the edge of helpless tears. He's delirious, he could outrun a Scorbunny right now with how fast his heart is beating.

Instead he falls forward and kisses his stupid rival right on the lips, leans into his warmth, half tempted to fall asleep like that and deal with all this tomorrow.

When he draws back, Victor is looking so softly at him that Hop wonders how he missed the signs all this time. Yes, he loves him like a codeword rival, no matter how stupid and secretive he is.

"You can have my Saturdays too," Hop whispers - and feels nothing short of a champion as Victor slowly smiles, his face brightening in realization. He didn't even smile like this when he crushed Hop's dreams in front of a whole stadium - some kind of rival he was.

Victor is overcome, mouth open in a smile, then closed, then open again to say something, and then closed again, like a lovestruck Magikarp. Hop kisses him again, right on his lips. Before he pulls back and demands,

"Drop out of the tournament. Don't fight my brother. You can't spend all that time with me if you're champion anyhow."

"No," Victor replies, shaking the dreamy smile off his face.

"Victor,"

Not "Vic", not "mate".

"It has to be from your brother," Victor insists.

"Why? It's not a game, Victor, you can only ask for Honour once!" Less than thirty seconds as a couple, and they were having their first fight. This had to be a record of some kind.

"I'm going to show him I'm a better champion than him," Victor says, "a champion that cooks curry for you and comes home for the holidays-"

"Vic, please-" Hop says, unwilling to cry about this loneliness that's been a constant for a decade now. He can cry if it's his own fault - he can't blame his brother for having dreams. He can't blame Victor for being stronger either.

"A champion that you don't have to miss for ten years, a champion that spends Saturdays with you-"

"He doesn't have a choice, Vic, Raihan's waiting too. It's just part of the job." Hop argues, but everything Victor offers him feels so much warmer, so much more like everything he wants.

"He should have chosen you," Victor says, wiping the tears from Hop's face. "I'm bringing your brother home, Hop, and he's giving us Honour before he leaves."

It's a heavy gamble, but that's tradition for you. When the first champion asked for the village head's daughter in marriage, she certainly wasn't given wooloo to herd. If the illustrated fables were anything to go by, she lost her arm in the fight for her bride and Honour. It's no wonder the Applin-giving caught on a bit more readily.

Hop has his head tucked into Victor's chest, breath slowly evening out from his sobbing. Victor reaches to turn the light off.

"Don't lose," Hop whispers, damning his own brother.


	2. Stylish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if you lost, the fight's not over

"-What a champion time it's been!" Ex-champion Leon announces to the roaring stadium. Victor, champion, feels the leaving tension sap the rest of his nerve and energy as confetti falls around him.

He has to ask now.

He couldn't, before the tournament, what with Rose and his genius plan and the hundreds of reporters swarming Leon. This victory has sapped everything from him - the only reason he's standing is the memory of Hop clutched in his arms, Hop pushing his lucky wooloo keychain in his hand, Hop's smile before the tournament.

Leon walks over, ceremoniously loosening his mantle and throwing it over Victor's shoulders. The new champion seemed frozen - Leon can empathize. He's shell-shocked and staring at him even as Leon takes his hand and raises it high in celebration.

The boy is shouting something over the crowd, something Leon can't hear. He smiles back at him, blood thrumming in his ears still from the battle.

"-sking f-r Or---!"

A flake of confetti lands right in the new champion's open mouth, making him splutter, much to the raucous amusement of the spectators. Even Leon is laughing as he bends low to pat Victor on his back.

"Are you alrigh-"

"I'm asking for Hop's Honour." The boy says, face hooded by the velvet mantle. From their position, Leon knows the cameras won't catch his slackjawed shock.

The boy recovers first, amazingly, looking off the field at the staff waving at them. Leon sees a familiar orange beanie hovering a head above the crowd, waiting. Always waiting.

It feels like running away, for the first time in ten years, as he waves back and runs towards Raihan. The Champion's eyes are burning on his back, tracking him as he follows Leon, two steps behind into his own.

"Alright, alright, give him space," Raihan asks, parting the crowd easily like yampers rushing for lunch, his charming demeanor never leaves, even as he presses his large hand firmly against the small of Leon's back, ushering him into his VIP locker room. "Let the man freshen up before you get his close-ups, huh?"

"Champion!" someone shrills, and Leon turns instinctively, only to see the crowd turn from him, rushing the small frame of Victor. His eyes look past them, focusing on Leon through the microphones pressed to his face.

Raihan nudges him in and the door clicks behind them.

They're alone.

Leon stands mutely for a moment, the tiles on the floor seem to quaver. The process seems off-kilter - he needs to hang up his mantle. No, not anymore. A shower first, but he doesn't think he can stand a moment longer.

Raihan decides for him, pushing an uncapped bottle in his hands and guiding him to the benches.

The bottle is cool in his hand, and his head is heavy on his neck, but Leon can't process much more. He feels the hard edge of the bottle's mouth click against his teeth, and realizes Raihan had guided his bottle to his mouth.

He sips what he can, the water painfully cold, his burning body seems to recoil from the sensation. When Raihan pulls the bottle away, Leon slumps on his shoulder. In silence, Leon reaches for Raihan's hand as the latter caps the bottle with his other hand, the soft clattering ringing through the room .

"I have something for you," Raihan murmurs, turning his head into Leon's hair, kissing him through the sweaty mop. He reaches for his pack behind him and pulls out a pale yellow envelope.

He hands it to Leon, holds it steady as Leon flips it open with one hand, still not letting go of Raihan.

The card, in Raihan's handwriting, says:

_What can I say except now we have more time for us? I love you, Dandelion._

Enclosed along with it was a brochure for Alola, folded and annotated from when they first got together, planning for their imaginary honeymoon, their future house, the names of their grandchildren. In what are supposed to be bright white clouds, Leon sees that the brochure has already yellowed slightly with age. Leon closes his eyes and let his heart swell painfully, the ache ebbing slowly away. Ten years, just like that.

"You were this prepared for me to lose?" Leon jokes. He leans a little harder into Raihan, runs his thumb over Raihan's empty ring finger.

"Nah, I got one for if you won too," Raihan replies, pulling a pink envelope from his pack.

_Eleven years and counting! I knew you could do it!_

Enclosed were four tickets to the local amusement park.

"For us," Raihan explains, pulling at two tickets, "and for your kid brother and to cheer up Victor," he says, pointing at the other two tickets.

"Hop..." Leon says, suddenly processing what Victor told him on the field.

"I know you don't like sending off trainers crying," Raihan says, sliding the tickets back into the envelope. "just thought you'd want to ease the blow. He's Hop's friend, isn't he?"

"No," Leon says, panic rising in his voice.

"No? Hop said-"

"No. Yes. They're rivals," Leon stumbles in a frenzy, "Raihan, they're rivals. _Rivals_."

"Oh god,” Raihan replies, eyes widening in recognition, “they're rivals?"

"Yes!" Leon stage whispers, eyes darting to the door, "They're rivals! Rivals **_rivals_**. Victor asked me for Honour after the match!"

"He what?" Raihan gapes, "wh- but that's, that's crazy! Oh man, I herded wooloo and he-" Raihan is shaking his head in disbelief, nearly laughing.

"Oh, that's so cool, you have to say yes, Leon."

“I **have** to-? Wha- I didn’t even know it was for Hop’s Honour! I was set up!" Leon sputters, "If I knew I'd-"

"You'd?" Raihan counters, grinning from ear to ear. "You'd have won?"

"Wh- No I- Whggh- Are you bullying me? What kind of boyfr-"

"Shhh! You know the place is crawling with razzi, stick with the code-"

"My rival is bullying me! I just lost my baby brother and my job!" Leon throws his hands up, an obvious whinge in his voice.

"Oh my god. You are such a drama king," Raihan laughs in disbelief, watching Leon frazzle himself red in the face, "That's what you get for maintaining a 10-year win streak. Stay off social media, by the way,”

Of course, Raihan is still on pidgetter, even when Leon’s world is flipping upside down.

“-last I saw, #VicHop is trending."

"V-Vic...Victor? And Hop?"

Raihan turns his floating rotom phone to Leon, showing, clear as day, his brother swept in a kiss by Victor right outside the stadium they were in. His baby brother! Hands thrown round Victor's neck and pulling him close! In public! That's his brother's lucky wooloo keychain! The one Leon spent his allowance at the coin machine for a week trying to get!

Leon despairs.

"He went public...before me..." Leon whispers, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Before us," Raihan soothes, pulling Leon in for a quick kiss.

Raihan tucks his phone away and reaches for a clean towel, "In all fairness, you would've seen this coming if you saw how over each other they were during the Christmas party,"

Leon's stare is pressing Raihan for more details.

Raihan shrugs, smiling like he's keeping a secret and smug about it, "-lookin' at each other like they wished a mistletoe would appear above them."

"B-but, it was one Christmas party!" Leon says, pulled to stand and pushed to the showers by his boyfriend. "I just missed _one_ \--"

"Well..."

"What?"

Raihan looks away, like he just got caught feeding Leon's Charizard Pecha berries during tournament training.

"You should go shower before the press gets antsy," Raihan says, still not meeting Leon's eyes.

"Raihan, I swear, they won't find your huge body in the tall grass if you don't -"

"Kids grow up fast, you know?" Raihan shrugs.

Leon stares at him for a beat, before hissing back.

"You've been texting Hop! You let this happen!"

"Oh come off it, you wanted us to act like brothers too, you said so yourself. He helped me with the wooloo, so I owe, oh-" Raihan slaps a hand over his mouth.

Leon's eyes widen, his mouth open in shock, and Raihan cringes at his slip, raising the towel as a shield, taking an anticipatory step back.

"You cheated? When fighting for _my_ Honour?" Leon's voice goes high with hysteria, shoving his hands into his wild locks and tugging, "How could y--"

"I lost one," Raihan confesses, holding up one finger like a shield against Leon's rising panic and keeping his eyes trained on how a vein twitched on Leon's neck, "just for an hour, and Hop found the damn thing stuck under the East Gate! I earned your Honour fair and square."

"Everything is a lie," Leon whispers, dazed, toddling into the shower unsteadily.

Raihan follows, pulling him from behind into a hug. Leons deflates into his embrace.

"Dandelion,"

"Don't _Dandelion_ me, Hammerlocke Gym Leader-"

" _Dandeliooooon_ ," Raihan whines, because he knows that Leon loves that pet name, "I swear I didn't fudge it on purpose- I even gave you my phone so I wouldn't get distracted, remember?"

Leon crosses his arms and huffs, but he's not pulling away. He does remember that, and how Raihan came back nearly daily with bruises patterning his legs like a Dubwool. Wooloos weren't the most gentle creatures when playing, especially since their wool coat protect them and little else - Of course Raihan did his best, Leon found him dead asleep on the sofa halfway through his challenge, a small photocard of Leon in his hand where his Rotom phone usually would be. It took Raihan another three years and a few pints to admit he still keeps it on him to stare at sometimes.

"Lee, baby," Raihan says, nuzzling into Leon's nape, "I'm sorry, I should've told you, I was trying to impress my future mother-in-law, can you blame me?"

"Just her?" Leon asks, turning finally to look up at his boyfriend.

"I'm always trying to impress you," Raihan says, smiling when Leon turns to hide his face, but his reddening ears plain to see.

"...alright," Leon says, "I already gave you that Applin anyhow, I don't suppose it's good luck to ask for her back."

"No, it's double bad luck if she's already a full-grown Flapple," Raihan smiles, loosening his hug so Leon can turn to face him.

"Guess I'm stuck with you as a rival," Leon says, snatching the towel from Raihan without any real heat in his voice, "even if you're a git that helped my brother snatch his Honour from under my nose-"

"Aw," Raihan says, watching Leon's face crumple again at the thought of his younger brother growing up out of sight. He never quite forgave himself for being as distant as he was with work. "Lee,"

"I just wanted to _know_ ," Leon sighs, "I tried so hard to call home regularly,"

"He doesn't blame you," Raihan says, but Leon's covering his face and marching to the stalls. "No one blames you, Leon."

"And I made you wait so long-"

A decade, Raihan considers that. Truth be told he went numb around year six, ignored Leon's frantic calls for a week in year seven, trained until he fainted in the wild area in year eight. He has a recurring dream of setting fire to the mantle, letting the sponsorship logos curl up in smoke. He has a matching nightmare, of Leon suffocating under the thick cloth, screaming for Raihan to lift it off him, and Raihan failing, over and over and over. 

"And I made you wait so long," Raihan echoes, like he's far away - but he recovers and meets Leon's eyes quickly.

"The wait's over," Raihan says, rubbing circles in Leon's back as he hides his face in the towel. "We can pack our bags and run to Alola tonight, if we wanted to. Or right after you shower, or not, right now. We could go right now."

"Don't be daft," Leon says, wiping his puffy eyes and mustering a smile, "There's still the interviews, and the paperwork, it'll be a week at best-"

"Ask if I care,"

Leon rolls his eyes. "We can't go on our honeymoon if you haven't..."

Leon stares at Raihan, at the rotom phone floating behind him. He blinks once, twice.

"No. We can still win this." Leon murmurs.

"Huh?"

A smile breaks across Leon's face, and he's got that shine in his eyes that hooked Raihan all those years ago.

"We can still win this, I'm not letting him win like this -"

"Him who? Win what?"

"The rings, you keep them with your old phones, don't you? The drawer with all the cables?"

"What? You weren't supposed to- you knew about the rings?" Their engagement rings. The ones Raihan bought in a drunken haze and hid away. The ones Leon wasn't supposed to know about until he lost his Champion title.

"Let's get married," Leon blurts out.

"Now?" Raihan says, looking around at the empty shower room.

"No, in front of the press, don't you see? He's not getting his air time with my brother, not when he hasn't earned his Honour--"

"But-" The thousands of spectators that came for the Championship tournament would beg to differ.

"That didn't count," Leon insists, stubborn as ever, "he didn't ask before the match, I didn't know it was for Honour--"

What a way to find out how bad a loser his boyfriend really was.

Raihan is so in love.

"So your plan is...."

"Go get the rings-"

"Hammerlocke is an hour round trip-"

Leon looks at him.

"Ok, I get the rings, and-"

Leon is smiling at him, all giddy like he just got Charmander as his starter.

"Let's get married." Leon says, pulling on the front of his hoodie, bouncing on the heels of his feet, "Let's get married, Raihan."

"-And get your rematch for your brother's Honour?" Raihan asks wryly, but he's already unfastening flight goggles from his belt.

"Do it for me?" Leon asks, but it's not a question. Raihan really knew how to pick them, looking at the smiling, sweaty, scheming, stubborn-as-a-Tauros sore loser before him.

Raihan didn't really stand a chance.

"Always, Dandelion," he says, heading for the door, Leon waving and smiling from the shower stall. Flygon's pokeball is already in his hand. He's probably going to break a few speed laws to make it back in time for the press release.

There’s a commotion round the back exit, barely anyone noticing Flygon dart into the air. From the sky the field is glittering with fallen confetti, like stars blooming from the ground. He can see Victor holding Hop close, the mantle around them both.

Through the clouds it’s just a blanket, it’s just another day they’re together, sleeping outside the tent because the stars were out. They’re just two rivals with a whole day to spend together, a whole adventure to have for themselves. 

Raihan leans low, resting on Flygon’s long neck as she croons happily, wings humming like a duet with the wind, antennae swaying above. The sun is warm, when Raihan closes his eyes, she's a Trapinch again, heavy and asleep in his arms, head against his heartbeat. She goes faster, faster still, he can hear her heart thrumming below his. She's singing, she's singing for him, his pokémon are awake, Raihan thinks he hears Duraludon roar in his capsule. If anyone asked, the air was so thin, but Raihan roars along, loud enough to ring through the clouds, deep from under his heart.

Déjà vu, but better; the kids are alright. Leon lost, so did Raihan in a way, because with a rival you don’t lose alone. Leon’s free, so Raihan’s free too.

The clouds are like wooloo. Hopefully the rings still fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone: Please just give your brother your blessings and be happy  
> Leon: Here's how Bernie can still win


End file.
